For the last month or so I have been asking myself a single, simple question before I do something. I ask myself “why am I doing this?”

Sometimes the answer is obvious, I do some things because I need to do them. I need to pay bills, I need to make appointments to see my doctors and go to those appointments. I need to stay on top of the disability application process and I need to continue to work out details with our mortgage servicer. Often times I need to try to fix medical billing errors. I need to file taxes. Sometimes I don’t want to do these things, in fact I hardly ever want to do these things, but they are not optional, so I do them.

Another area of things that I do is to help Gina. She is officially launching her Story Mining program so I helped build her web site and configure her online store and her event management service. I set her up with email and documents and I set up Trello so we can stay on the same page for all of these things.

I am so remarkably proud of her for doing this work and helping women who are in or who have left abusive relationships. To turn her own past hardships in to a healing path is extraordinary and inspiring. I have mentioned before that she is a goddamned superhero and I still think that, and always will.

Gina was my caregiver during my cancer treatments and in that role she did things to help me that no one should be asked to do. She has always been unflinchingly supportive of me and the boundaries I have set with my family, and the work I am doing in therapy to deal with the childhood sexual abuse inflicted on me by my brother. She is the only one who seems to understand why I object to being forced to maintain a legal relationship with him, and for him to maintain such a role in my life despite my objections.

But it isn’t really any of those things that make it so easy to answer the why question for the things that I do to help Gina. I do these things for Gina because she is my whole world and I love her and I live for moments when I can offer help to her.

And then there is most everything else in my life, where honestly the only answer I can come up with is “fuck if I know” and when that is my answer, I have stopped doing it.

Why am I posting here on this blog: Fuck if I know.

Why am I reading and posting to Bluesky: Fuck if I know.

Why do I keep going to the Creative Peace group and try to post in the community there? Fuck if I know.

Why do I try to start conversations on Reddit with people about music? Fuck if I know.

Why do I continue to seek out and join online music communities? Fuck if I know.

Why do I …..? Fuck if I know.

Why do I …..? Fuck if I know.

Why do I …..? Fuck if I know.

The list is infinite.

I know why I started to do these things, they were purposeful. But they have ceased being purposeful, or honestly they never made even a small dent in their intended purpose. They don’t bring me joy, they don’t inspire me or fulfill me. They leave me feeling empty, alone, unseen, and being where I don’t belong.

But I kept on doing these things because maybe this time would be the time that I connected with someone about an obscure song I posted. Maybe this time would be the time someone commented on a story I shared, and wanted to talk about it, or ask me a question?

Maybe this time would be the time where one goddamned thing I tried to do actually accomplished something that made it worth the effort.

It sparked a conversation.

Started a friendship.

Made even a small fucking blip on someone’s radar to prove that I am not invisible.

Maybe one time someone would actually see me, not just a generic me, but the real genuinely unique person I am, and think I am interesting, or have a unique perspective, or an opinion they want to better understand, or, you know, maybe just say ‘hey”

Why did I even write and post this? Fuck if I know.